


Wear Sunscreen

by winterhill



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Coping, Devotion, Getting Together, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Canon, Sharing a Bed, Summer, Sunburn, Swimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:21:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21845104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterhill/pseuds/winterhill
Summary: “Galo,” said Lio. “Do you know how to teach someone to swim?”“It’s just logic, isn’t it?” asked Galo. “Come on, float.”
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 20
Kudos: 292
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Wear Sunscreen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Findarato](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Findarato/gifts).



> Thanks to my foxy beta! Title from [The Sunscreen Song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5giWfpANMac).

Lio being Lio, they all learned that he couldn’t swim in the _most dramatic way possible._ Galo did not get how Lio was the most badass, toughest guy he knew, but also the only person he knew who needed to be rescued from certain death on a regular basis. It wasn’t that he didn’t mind doing the rescuing — in fact, he enjoyed it immensely — it was more that it was simply baffling to see Lio helpless or hurt. It didn’t match with his mental image of the man. 

Anyway, they were out at the once-frozen lake, which had briefly been a thawed mess of steam, and was now a quite lovely reservoir that just so happened to contain a secret laboratory at the bottom. Heris had wanted to get in there and see what else they’d missed, so of course the Burning Rescue crew had decided to go in with her. Lio was there because — well. The aftermath of the Parnassus had been such that the interim governor had pretty much said “fuck it” and let Lio stay, let Heris stay, let the Burnish and the Parnassus’s passengers and everyone stay... on the tacit understanding that no-one was ever to talk about that time Promeopolis went crazy and nearly doomed the world, and no-one was to go back to being terrorists, bigots, or anything else that would tank the economy further than Kray had tanked it. 

They were out at the lake, and Lio was helping Galo pilot the non-Promare-fuelled mech that Lucia had adapted for them, and that Lio had painted black with go-faster neon stripes. Aina had Heris in hers, and together they all made their way to the bottom, to discover that what the lake contained was the ruined remains of a secret laboratory. Heris still insisted on gathering what they could, although Galo doubted there was enough rice in the world to dry out the waterlogged computers. 

They were on their last trip to the surface when one of the seals went. 

“Uh,” said Galo, as water pooled around his feet. “This isn’t meant to happen?” 

Lucia came up on the HUD. “Shit,” she said. “This isn’t meant to happen.” 

Lio’s tone was curt. His Mad Burnish voice, Galo thought fondly. “Never mind _meant to_ , what’s the plan?” 

“Can you get to shore?” Aina. “Or should we come get you?” 

“Guys,” said Galo. “It’s up to my waist.” 

“At least it’s coming up to summer,” said Lucia, cheerfully. 

“It’s still cold,” said Galo, and then one of the clear panels buckled in, and with a _whoosh_ the entire mech filled with water. Galo didn’t think — he hit the eject switch, catapulting himself and Lio to the surface. Aina and Heris could rescue the mech. 

“Unbuckle!” he yelled at Lio. Lio unbuckled, as the mech tilted, wobbled, and sank. “All right, we’ll have to swim for it.” 

Lio didn’t say anything, so Galo thought he was right behind. In his ear, Galo could hear Lucia swearing about her suppliers giving her sub-par stock, and apologising in the next breath. He set out for shore with powerful strokes, actually enjoying the opportunity to swim in the lake rather than just lug dead computers up from their watery grave. 

“Lio!” cried Aina’s voice over the comms, and Galo stopped, turned as he trod water, and then struck back for Lio, who was struggling to even stay afloat. Galo watched in horror as Lio went under and didn’t come back up, diving for him, feeling Lio’s hand grasp his. He got to shore in record time, dragging Lio’s unmoving body with him, settling him on the warm rocks by the water’s edge. 

“Lio,” he gasped, and he was about to do mouth-to-mouth for the second time when Lio coughed up water, rolled onto his side, and groaned. “You can’t swim.” 

“Well-spotted,” said Lio, wheezing some more. Galo tucked Lio’s soft, damp hair back. His own hair was now a flowing and soggy tendril of blue, and it would dry like a toilet brush, he just knew it. “It’s never really been an issue until now.” 

“But—” 

“What was I going to learn to swim in? Lava? The Promare didn’t like anything that might put them out.” Lio sat up, and Galo engulfed him in a hug because the feel of Lio’s limp body was branded into his muscle memory and he wanted to overwrite it with something new. Lio didn’t wriggle; he rested his head on Galo’s shoulder and leaned in to the hug. Somewhere in the lake, Aina brought their mech to the surface, streaming water. 

Galo looked back at Lio. Grinned. 

“Well,” said Galo. “You’re a lucky man.” 

“Why?” 

“I’m going to teach you to swim!” 

________________

Things Galo hadn’t been prepared for: Lio in swimwear. They’d agreed that swimming lessons had to happen in a pool rather than an extremely deep lake, and for that, he’d needed swimwear. He’d gone for a tight-fitting black leggings-like arrangement, which was a) reminiscent of his Burnish armour, b) didn’t have a shirt, and c) left almost nothing to the imagination, despite being long and made of thick, shiny fabric. Galo picked up and threw Lio in at the deep end anyway, because he wanted to see what would happen. 

What happened was Lio sputtered his way to the edge of the pool, grabbed Galo’s ankle with cold fingers and _yanked_ , flipping him into the water. 

“Cold!” yelped Galo. 

“You’re the one who picked me up and threw me in!” 

“I wanted to see how you swam!” 

“I thought we’d already established that I don’t,” said Lio. His wet hair covered one eye, and his skin prickled with goosebumps. He looked _furious._ He looked incandescent. He looked gloriously alive and Galo had to remind himself that they were here for a reason. Their mech was in the shop and would be for ages, Lucia said, because the water had fried practically every circuit in the thing. Apparently she’d told their supplier that if he ever sold her dodgy panels again, she’d kick him so hard he’d see stars. Galo believed it. 

“You’ll learn,” said Galo, pushing off the wall, out to the centre. “Push off, come to me.” 

Lio did it without hesitation; he was terrible at staying afloat, but he pushed off, and Galo grabbed him, held him safe in the water. This had been a great idea, he thought, because he had Lio’s chest pressed to his, and Lio’s breath in his ear. 

They’d been living together since the Parnassus. Lio hadn’t even asked — had just followed Galo home, spread out on the spare bed that Galo had optimistically bought for visitors who rarely came, and then just not moved out. He’d bought food. He’d taken over the television remote, commandeered the couch. He’d been given work by Ignis, and then he’d worked every other hour of the day for the ex-Burnish. He’d become part of Galo’s life, linked inextricably, and Galo couldn’t bear the thought of it not being this way. 

“All right,” said Galo. “Now float.” 

“How?” 

“I don’t know,” said Galo. “You just float. Spread your body out. You’re good at that — taking up space.” He nudged Lio’s legs with his own. “Maybe we should have put a float belt on you.”

“Galo,” said Lio. “Do you know how to teach someone to swim?” 

“It’s just logic, isn’t it?” asked Galo. “Come on, float.” 

Lio was a quick study, even if Galo’s explanations left something to be desired. Galo knew he spoke better with his body than he ever did with his voice, and Lio was adept at hearing what he had to say. After an hour, they were pruny with the water, but Lio could float, could paddle out to Galo, could get his head under without breathing in. He could dive in carrying a weight, and then swim to the surface with it. Galo’s worry eased, and they got out, lay on the edge of the pool on their towels to soak in some of the sun’s warmth before they had to go in. 

“And this is just somewhere people can come?” asked Lio, shading his eyes. “You pay the entry fee and come in?” 

“You liked it, huh,” said Galo. 

“It’s the closest thing I’ve—” Lio frowned, turning to him. “It’s weird. It’s not the same as being Burnish. But it reminds me of it. How weightless I felt; how smooth and easy it was to move. Like piloting a mech, but the mech was my body.” 

More things Galo hadn’t prepared for: his heart to clench when he thought about what Lio had lost. Lio reached out a slim, pale hand, and traced his fingers down the burn scars on Galo’s arm. He’d had poor mobility while they were healing, but a compression sleeve had helped. Was not being Burnish like being in a whole-body compression sleeve? 

“I miss it,” said Lio, into the quiet space between them. “I know I shouldn’t. It caused so much pain and destruction. But it was fun, sometimes, and useful.” He kept stroking Galo’s arm, absent-mindedly. “I wouldn’t go back to the way things were. But I miss it.” 

Galo didn’t know how to help. He didn’t know how to change things; how to make them better, or at the least, different. He didn’t know what to say, so as per usual, he said the first thing that came into his head. 

“You can buy a pass,” said Galo. “For the pool. They only open it in summer, but there’s an indoor one on the north side if you want to swim all year round.” 

Lio lay back and laughed, hand over his eyes to shield them, body stretched and gleaming under the sun. 

“You,” he said, and then met Galo’s eyes, and then they were both laughing, apropos of nothing but each other. 

______________

Things Lio hadn’t been prepared for: sunburn. Galo hadn’t even considered that the Promare might have repaired _sunburn_ , of all things, but Lio went out on his day off to work with the Burnish recovery and repatriation efforts, and came home red and hot and uncomfortable. What he’d been doing outside without a shirt on, Galo didn’t want to know (except he did, because what was Lio doing outside without a shirt on? And why wasn’t Galo invited?), but it meant that Lio was completely miserable, and almost unable to get comfortable. 

“No sun for a week,” said Galo, inspecting the damage. “At least. And you’re going to peel.” He pulled a face. “Yuk.” 

“Thanks for your compassion,” said Lio. He wilted, drooping where he sat on the couch, so Galo got up, got him some pain medication and a whole jug of water, got the spray-on moisturiser he used on his arm, and he wet down some towels in the sink to make cool compresses. Lio stiffened at the first hit of the spray, but relaxed when Galo crouched in front of him, draped a cold towel over his raw shoulders. 

“You’ll need to take two every few hours. Bring down the swelling.” 

Lio leaned forward, his hot forehead like a brand where he rested against Galo’s neck. 

“This is horrible,” he said. 

“Why didn’t you put on sunscreen?” 

“I didn’t know this would happen,” said Lio, and Galo resisted touching him and making it worse. “Meis was worse.” 

“You saw the guys today?” 

Lio exhaled. Galo felt it. “Yeah. It was good. Barely have a chance to catch them these days, but they said they’d help with the project.” 

“Which one?” 

“The garden one. We got the kids involved, because the project for the troublemakers; it’s…expanded. Hard to keep track of everything we’re doing, so Meis is going to look after the gardens while Guiera and I look after the juvenile delinquents. And sometimes we’ll work on both.” 

Lio had been charged with working with some of the younger ex-Burnish in his spare time; small and tough, like Lio must have been when he was their age, and totally at a loose end without their spark. Of course Lio would expand the project, if it was helping to stop them do stupid things like set fire to trashcans and shoplifting whatever wasn’t nailed down. 

“I’m going to tell the chief you can’t come in tomorrow,” said Galo. 

Galo had lived the life of a child at a loose end, and he’d pinned his hopes and dreams on Kray Foresight. He’d striven to be the man he thought Foresight was — the man he thought Foresight wanted him to be. He’d been wrong. 

“Would the kids be all right if I went and helped tomorrow?” asked Galo. 

“Mmm?” 

“You know. Would they be all right with me?” Lio hadn’t moved, so Galo didn’t either. “I’m a firefighter.” 

“They’d be all right,” said Lio. “But I’ll be good to go by tomorrow afternoon, if I take work off.” He sat up, and pulled the towel off his shoulders. “I need to wet this again.” 

“I’ll do it,” said Galo. “And I’ll go down to the community centre tomorrow afternoon.” He soaked the towel, and then laid it carefully on Lio’s shoulders, which radiated heat like a furnace. “I remember the first time I got burnt like this.” 

“The first time?” 

“Yeah,” said Galo. “You might not have noticed, but I don’t always wear a shirt.” 

Later, Lio stumbled into a cool shower, and Galo breached the sanctity of his room to make sure there was a huge jug of iced water on the bedside next to him. Lio gave in to sleep by nine, which left Galo on his own to watch TV, and to answer his phone when Guiera texted him. 

_How is he?_

_Asleep,_ Galo replied. _Text me the details for his shift at the Community Centre tomorrow. I’ll do it._

_That bad?_

_He’s gonna feel it in the morning._

Galo nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the crash of the ice jug hitting the floor in Lio’s room. He bolted in, nearly skidded on the wet floor, and saw Lio, fighting against something in his dreams, silently, desperately. The jug must have been a victim of the crossfire; Galo didn’t want to grab him on his sunburnt arms, but he needed to stop him. 

“Lio,” he said, taking his hands. “Lio, Lio. Stop. You’re safe.” 

Lio didn’t wake, but he did stop struggling. 

“Galo?” he slurred. “I’m on fire. Why am I on fire?” 

“You’re not on fire,” said Galo. “I’m the world’s best firefighter, remember? I wouldn’t ever let you catch fire.” Well, except that one time. And maybe the second World Blaze? Did that count? Lio was a terrible influence re: Galo and fires, but really, Galo didn’t mind all that much. Lio didn’t reply to his questions, and Galo thought he might be back to sleep, so he let go. He replaced the water, soaked up the mess on the floor with towels. 

Then he got his blow-up mattress, the flat little futon he took when he went bike camping, and set it up on the floor, ready to spring into action if he was needed. 

He’d striven to be the man he thought Kray was. Now, he needed something different; a guiding star that wouldn’t turn out to go supernova. Something that would help him be here for Lio, and the ex-Burnish, and all the people who relied on him. Galo rolled onto his side, so he could watch Lio sleep in the thin lines of light that came in through the blinds, and he pondered what tomorrow would bring. 

_______________

Lio half-woke three more times in the night, each time seeming worse and worse — once, he thought he was in the engine of the Parnassus, burning into ash; another time, he was caught by anti-Burnish protestors and, best Galo could tell, burned alive. He apologised to Galo while he wasn’t awake, and Galo wondered if he dreamed like this every night, but kept it hidden away where Galo couldn’t see. 

Lio was definitely too sad and sorry for himself to go to work the next day. Galo finished his shift early, and checked in on him en route to the Community Centre, but Lio sent him off with a huff. At the centre, Guierra was waiting for him with a band of six wiry and tough-looking kids. 

“Him?” said one, a girl. “Where’s the Boss?” 

“He’s not feeling well,” said Galo. 

“He got hurt,” said a boy. “If you hadn’t forced him to burn out all our fire, then he wouldn’t have.” 

“Icarus,” said Guiera. He sounded 100% done with this shit. Galo didn’t blame him. “No-one forces the Boss to do anything he doesn’t want to do.” 

“He’s right,” said Galo, enthused. Lio was a favourite topic. “He’s brave, and loyal, and he wouldn’t have done it if it weren’t for the best for everyone.” 

“And what, he doesn’t feel like dealing with us today so he sends his boyfriend?” asked Icarus. 

“I—” said Galo, wrong-footed. Did Lio tell people he was Galo’s boyfriend? 

“Fuck off, Icarus,” said another girl. “Don’t insult the Boss. He wouldn’t date a firefighter.” 

Galo was about to launch into a speech about the nobility and history of firefighting, but Guiera jumped in. “Boss told me you taught him to swim. Think you can teach this lot? We’ve got the gear, but not the teacher.” 

“Yes!” Something Galo could do. 

“Might cool off some hot heads,” said Guiera, and one of the kids kicked him in a not-quite-affectionate way. 

Galo managed to get out of Guiera that Meis and Lio had ended up roasted because they’d been working on fencing off the community gardens so that wildlife didn’t keep getting in and eating the vegetables. Burnish life, before the second burn, had been all about community; living in informal settlements, growing what they couldn’t scavenge, sharing what little they had. It sounded simultaneously idyllic and stressful, Galo thought, but he admired the idea that the leaders would muck in with everyone else to get things done. 

The kids dipped their toes in the water like angry cats until Galo decided he needed backup, called Aina, and then proceeded to dunk all six tweens in the pool. He’d remembered the float belts this time, so they bobbed to the surface no happier for the experience, and then Aina arrived with Lucia, Remi and Vinny, and there were so many people in the pool and the kids shifted from angry to excited as they realised they could float about as if they were flying on purple flame. 

“Lio said it was the closest thing to being Burnish that he’d found,” said Galo, as the kids dive-bombed each other. They’d picked it up quickly, too; it seemed that being able to step and swan through air and fire prepared one for swimming. 

Guiera nodded. “Told me that too. I didn’t believe him at first — how can water be like fire?” he said. “Looks like we might have a new distractor for this lot.” 

“I want to help,” said Galo. “I’ve been busy on the repair work, but it’s pretty well over. They can do without me. This—” He looked at Aina, who was teaching one of the girls how to do a flip. “I think this might be more important.” 

“Yeah,” said Guiera. “That’s what the Boss thinks, too.” 

___________

Galo came home to Lio fast asleep in Galo’s own bed, under the air conditioner. He supposed it made sense — the cool air would feel better on his skin, but it would also be drying. Galo tch-ed, showered, changed, got some more water, all without Lio waking. It was only when he sat on the edge of the bed that Lio stirred. 

“Hey,” said Galo. “You’re in my bed.” 

“My bed now,” said Lio. True. For someone so small, he took up almost the entirety of a king sized bed. 

“Drink,” said Galo, handing him a glass of water and some more pain meds. He waited until Lio had finished the water before flopping onto the covers next to him. “We took the kids to the pool. They loved it.” 

“Good,” said Lio, and made no move to get up. Neither did Galo. It was like playing chicken, but not; Galo was pretty sure that Lio didn’t want to get up as much as Galo didn’t want him to get up. He was still warm, radiating heat; he closed his eyes with a sigh. “I’ve been meaning to ask if you’d help with them. You’re a good man. They need to see good men, so that they grow into something more than what I taught them to be back when I was leading Mad Burnish.” 

“You didn’t teach them to be jerks,” said Galo, the cool air like a waterfall where it blew across his body. “Mad Burnish didn’t kill.” 

“We did burn,” said Lio. “We destroyed. _I_ destroyed.” 

“And Kray tried to kill you all. Some anger is normal, yeah?” 

“I don’t want to repeat the mistakes of our past,” said Lio, tightly. “I don’t want to prove the rednecks who think that Burnish are all criminals right.” 

“We won’t,” said Galo, taking his hand, threading their fingers together. 

_Boss’s boyfriend,_ said his memory. Then, _Boss wouldn’t date a firefighter._ Galo took a chance, raised Lio’s hand to his lips, kissed his knuckles. When he looked up, Lio was gazing at him, dark-eyed. 

“What was that for?” he asked. 

“Because,” said Galo, and he smiled. Lio smiled back, then winced. 

“I’m not moving from this bed,” he said.

“Good,” said Galo, settling in with their fingers still laced. 

Lio dreamed again. Galo knew he dreamed, because his eyes moved under closed eyelids, and his breath quickened — but he didn’t thrash or shout. Perhaps Lio really had been dreaming like this all these months; perhaps he worked himself to the bone so that he’d be too tired to dream. Galo had been doing that, because if he wasn’t exhausted, he dreamed of Kray Foresight, telling him that he wasn’t worthy, that he was a nuisance. He dreamed of Kray Foresight, aflame. 

On the worst nights, he dreamed of Lio, crumbling to ash.

“Lio,” he said, as Lio stiffened next to him, flinching from something only he could see. “Lio. I’m here. You’re safe.” 

Lio didn’t speak, but he did shift so that he was tucked into the lee of Galo’s body, close and protected, and his breathing evened out, his shifting stopped. Listening to his gentle breaths, Galo drifted off. In his dreams, he ran — he was running behind Kray, who strode too far ahead of him to catch up. Galo put on a burst of speed, and grabbed his arm— Kray turned, and instead of Foresight’s familiar, smug face, Galo saw his own. 

“You watch,” said Kray. “You’ll become just like me.” 

“No,” said Galo, “I won’t, I’ll be better than you.” 

The dream-him, the dream-Kray-Galo, started to insult him, and furious hot tears welled in Galo’s eyes. How could he have given so much of himself to this man, so much of his identity? 

“Galo,” said Lio, in the dream. “There you are.” 

“He—no, he’ll—” Galo managed. Where had Lio come from? He was perched next to Galo where he’d fallen to his knees. He was in his Burnish armour, but his face was uncovered. Concerned. 

“I won’t let him,” said Lio, and he took Galo’s hand, the one with the scars, and pressed his lips to Galo’s knuckles. “Trust me.” 

He did trust Lio. More than was sensible. More than was sane, for a man he’d known for such a short time. But he trusted Lio. 

Galo woke with Lio still pressed along the length of him, his lithe body warm even under the blowing of the AC. Galo’s throat hurt a bit from dragging in the cool air all night, but even so, he’d willingly take a sore throat for this. Why had he set Lio up in the guest room? Why had Lio not been in his bed every night, ready to fight their nightmares together? They’d fought everything else together, after all. 

Lio woke. Stretched a little in place, like a cat, then looked around. “Why am I in your bed?” 

“Good morning,” said Galo. 

“Mmm.” Lio seemed to realise he wasn’t going to get an answer, or maybe he worked out the answer. “This is horrible. I’m never going in the sun again.” He rolled over, used the momentum to get to his feet. Galo’s heart fluttered. Lio stretched, winced, then stretched again. “All right. Time to go to work.” 

________________

After the twenty-ninth tomato/lobster/beet/crab joke, Lio punched a wall in the breakroom, which was Not Good because it looked for a while like he might have broken his hand. Galo, who’d been the origin of the joke that broke the camel’s back, felt bad about it. Bad enough that he bandaged Lio’s bruised and split knuckles. 

“You do kind of look like a lobster,” said Galo, as he fastened the bandage. 

“You’re meant to be on my side,” said Lio, and the sudden stab of guilt that Galo felt was breathtaking. The mood shifted; Lio quirked an eyebrow at him. “Galo?” 

“Sorry,” he said, quietly. “Sorry. I’ll— tell the others.” 

“It’s all right,” said Lio. “Heris was right, you know. It’s just joking.” 

“It isn’t, is it?” 

“If I still had my fire…” Lio didn’t continue. Of course. The sunburn wasn’t major, but it was obvious, and embarrassing, and a painful reminder of what Lio had lost. 

“Lio,” said Galo, stricken. “I didn’t—” 

“I know.” Lio lifted Galo’s chin so that he could look into Galo’s eyes. “Making a few insensitive jokes doesn’t make you Kray Foresight.” 

“I—” Galo didn’t know what to say. He’d never talked well with his words; he’d never got across what he was trying to get across. But Lio had possibly just read his mind, because how could he know that that was what Galo was thinking?

Perhaps Lio read him, or perhaps Lio just thought like him, because Lio kept hold of his chin and kissed him, right on the mouth. Something broke inside Galo; something he hadn’t known he was keeping pent up inside, and he kissed back, ran his palms up and down Lio’s thighs because he didn’t want to clutch at Lio’s sunburn. 

“There you are,” said Lio, when they parted. 

The alarm bell rang. Galo said a word he’d only ever said inside the privacy of his own mind. Lio watched him jump up; Lio would have to stay here, manage the station while Galo went. No point in putting an injured person into the fire. Galo moved to the door, then rushed back, kissed Lio again, a brief, bright flare of contact, and then ran for the engine with his heart light. 

His heart sank again when he realised where the call was to. 

The Burnish settlement, on the outside of town. One of the kids must have set fire to a trashcan again, or— or maybe something more sinister was happening. He’d heard enough of Lio’s dreams now to know there were things that Lio wasn’t telling him — that people, people like the ones Kray had wanted on the Parnassus, were avenging themselves upon the ex-Burnish. 

The main building — an old farmhouse — was well alight by the time they got there. People had formed a bucket chain to put out the embers where they hit the gardens, and some of the shelters, but the house was irrevocably ablaze. Meis ran up to him. 

“Thymos!” he said. “Does your team have capacity to shore up the roof?” 

“Why?” 

“There’s a kid still in there!” 

It was his own story, told in some weirdly twisted way, told years later. A brave man saves a child from a fire. Galo straightened. 

“Where?” 

“Attic,” said Meis, and Galo looked up, saw a frightened face in the window and — a cat. The rude boy from the pool, Icarus, was holding a large, fluffy cat. He must have gone back to save it.

“What caused the fire?” asked Galo, readying for deployment. 

“Don’t know,” said Meis. “But we don’t leave people behind.” 

“Neither do I,” said Galo, and assisted by hydraulics and armour, he sprinted into the burning building. 

He’d been in here a few times before, when Lio had Burnish councils and business to attend to. He’d been here when Lio had given people their official pardons, along with the “don’t fuck it up for everyone” memo. 

He’d been here in his memory for years; a fire surrounding him, no way out. 

He didn’t think about that. He ran up the crumbling stairs. “Icarus!” 

“Here!” The boy was smart enough not to cower or hide. “Mr Galo, I—” 

“Hold on,” said Galo, picking up boy and cat, and punching through the window. Glass shattered around them, glittering and winking as it fell. The cat yowled, but it was too late; Galo had jumped, and he was through the window, landing on his feet, setting the boy down. The boy ran to Meis and Guierra, and the cat clung to him, and Galo shook glass splinters out of his hair as the building began to collapse in on itself. 

There was a new ending to the story, wasn’t there? The boy is saved by the hero. What would he grow into? What kind of man would Galo be, that a child could follow his lead? 

“Shit,” said Meis. “That’s good timing.” 

The kid turned to Galo, and ran to him, beaming in a way he hadn’t before. The surliness had gone, replaced with something like awe. 

“That was _so cool_ ,” said Icarus, at the top of his lungs. “What’s that thing, Mr Galo?” 

“This?” asked Galo. “Ah! Let me tell you about the Matoi…” 

________________

Lio was still too sensitive to stand too much of Galo’s attention that night, but it was a relief that the floodgates had opened, couldn’t be closed again; that Galo didn’t want to close them, and neither, seemingly, did Lio. He perched on Galo’s lap and kissed him, kissed him again, running both hands down Galo’s chest, taking things as far as both of Lio’s hands in Galo’s pants, and Galo’s hands on Lio’s upper thighs, then higher, higher, and both of them together, letting their bodies speak. 

_________________

It had been a kitchen fire. Nothing sinister. Lio’s nightmares had spiked, but they’d eased again with the discovery of the cause. But Galo — well. He gave the game away about the change in their relationship on the first day they were back in the station together, because he couldn’t keep his hands off Lio — now that he was allowed to touch he indulged himself in it all the time. 

Lio’s burn faded into a tan, with tiny freckles that you could only see if you got close enough, dusted over the bridge of his nose and the tops of his shoulders. Lio hated it. Galo thought it was _adorable_. After the first flush of excitement about their relationship, life continued on, just like it had after the Parnassus, just like it had after every other trial and tragedy they’d experienced. Lucia fixed their mech. The ex-Burnish crowdfunded to rebuild their central hall, and the foundations were underway. 

And also — 

Galo convinced Remi to drive the bus, because there were too many people to be pillion passengers on bikes, and Galo didn’t have a heavy vehicle license. Safety first, he told them all solemnly. He would have liked to ride his bike, Lio with him, but he had a responsibility to help out on the bus. 

The program had expanded. Why, Galo had asked, should only _some_ ex-Burnish be children taught to swim? And when they had six newly-hatched swimming teachers? If you give them responsibility, Galo said, when the Promeopolis Herald came to interview him, then they’re not at a loose end. So as summer hit its height, and the weather was clear and hot, Galo got Remi to drive a bus up to the lake, because there were sixteen ex-Burnish children desperate to swim somewhere that wasn’t the safe confines of a pool. Sixteen kids, plus their parents, the rest of Burning Rescue, Meis and Guiera, and anyone else who wanted to come, which included a shy girl who’d joined the swimming lessons at the pool despite not being ex-Burnish. Her parents were busy, she’d said, and she was part of the fold in an instant, because she had the same swimsuit as one of the littler ones, who decided that meant that they were meant to be friends. 

Lio sprawled on his bus seat. Galo supposed busses were still a novelty to him. He sprawled at the lake. He _did_ let himself be drawn into showing off in the water (the kids were particularly impressed when he did a triple flip off Galo’s shoulders), and later, as the sun began to sink, he set up a campfire on the shoreline for everyone (supervised by Galo, of course, but Lio did dryly point out that he knew how to set a fire). He also napped on the way home, snuggled up against Galo, and Galo bravely fought the urge to point out to everyone that this was his Lio, that Lio trusted him, that Lio was his boyfriend. 

“Hey,” said Aina, from behind him. “This was a good day. I bet the kids remember it for a long time.” 

“Nah,” said Galo. 

“Don’t be modest,” she said. “You’ve made a difference.” 

“We’re going to do this again,” he said. “And other things, too… like hiking, and working the community gardens. Icarus wants to learn to fight fires, so I’m going to teach him,” —there was a little noise of delight from behind him— “ _safely_. It’s going to be one memory of many, yeah?” 

Aina ruffled his hair, leaned forward over the seat back and kissed his cheek. He knew what she was saying. 

“Lio’s going to run for council,” said Galo, quietly. “I think he’ll get a seat. It’ll mean he can only come out for big fires, but they happen less often these days.” 

“That’s good,” said Aina. “Between the two of you, you’ll break down every wall Kray Foresight erected.” 

“You think?” asked Galo. He’d always assumed he’d build Kray Foresight’s legacy. It was kinda nice to be tearing it down, instead. 

“Yeah,” she said. “I do.” 

He had hoped to carry Lio in, but Lio woke up as they pulled into the carpark of the Community House. He carried Lio anyway, because it got him a _woooooo_ from the kids (and the Burning Rescue staff), and once everyone was safely away and Remi was driving the bus back to the hire place, he took Lio home. 

Galo was the good kind of tired by the time Lio joined him in bed, perching atop him and leaning down for a kiss. Galo kissed Lio’s bare shoulders, delighting in warm skin. 

“You’re sunburnt,” said Lio. 

“What?” He rolled Lio off him and ran into the bathroom; the mirror was still foggy from their showers. He wiped at it and stared in horror. “I swear I put—” He sighed. “Right. Not on my face.” His face was starting to shade to bright, crisp red. Lio, leaning in the bathroom doorway, laughed fondly. “How am I gonna go in tomorrow looking like a tomato-head?” 

“Come on, tomato-head,” said Lio. “Let’s see what happens if I kiss it better.” 

All right, all right, now _that_ was a plan Galo could get on board with. Lio brought him water and painkillers, and he kissed Galo gently, because now Galo was aware of it, his cheeks were starting to feel a bit tight and sore. 

“Maybe I’d feel better if—” Galo began, hopefully. 

“Already on it,” said Lio, pressing a light kiss to Galo’s stomach, settling between his thighs. Galo stroked his fingers through Lio’s hair, the shock of Lio’s hot mouth enough to take his mind off anything other than Lio. After, Lio sprawled again, put on a show just for Galo, and then curled up into his arms like he’d always belonged there. 

Galo dreamed. 

He’d hoped the dreams wouldn’t come tonight, but perhaps — perhaps memory was a tricky thing. Galo dreamed, and it was that horrible one where he was running, trying to catch up to Kray. He dreaded what would happen when he caught up, but it was a dream, so he couldn’t stop. Someone grabbed his wrist, pulled him back, and it felt solid and anchoring in a way Kray never had. 

He turned, and there was Lio. He smiled. Twined their fingers together. 

“Hey,” said Lio. “You should come this way.” 

Galo did.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Yule, Findarato! I have loved your keenness about this film and I hope you enjoyed the story :)


End file.
